


Know Something Easy

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Drama, Episode Related, Gap Filler, Season/Series 04, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-12
Updated: 2004-06-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:44:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  (Spoilers for 408 and 409)





	Know Something Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The first person he actually tells is Ted.

There’s something deliciously ironic about that, Brian thinks. Ted has always been there, and he’s always been the lowest on Brian’s little happy Brady Bunch totem pole, even when he was a porn king. Even lower when he was a crystal addict. 

And _especially_ low when and whenever he’s an accountant, but that’s Ted for you. That’s _always_ going to be Ted, and the man has his uses, and seems to be blessed with a perpetually guilty conscience. For some fucked up reason, Brian knows that he can rely on him.

Brian hurts, _hurts_ , and he’s tired and queasy and it’s so different from any pain he’s been in before, and he’s not sure why. Ted says, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Brian has a problem. He has –

And he says it. And Ted, well, after Brian’s limping dash to the bathroom, he’s pretty sure Ted understands.

 

-

 

The second person he tells is Lindsay, when she comes over to the loft and asks him why Justin looks like his dog just died. 

For a second Brian wants to say _The dog’s not dead yet_ , but instead he just... tells her.

She’s shocked at first, then pissed.

“Yeah, well,” he says, “I didn’t want anyone –“

Lindsay cuts him off, says “You are the most selfish, egotistical man I have ever known,” shoves Gus into his arms, and hugs him hard around the neck. She’s trembling with fury and pity. Her body presses Gus into Brian’s side, but Gus doesn’t complain.

Brian can’t bring himself to draw away from her. After all, she’s holding him really tight, and if he tried to pry her off, Gus might slip from his grasp and crack his fucking head open. Melanie’d have his balls.

...Well, shit. The other one, anyway.

Gus kicks his feet and blinks at his mommy, and Brian’s arms are getting tired. 

“Linds,” he says, “Linds, you need to take Gus,” and Lindsay finally lets go of him, hoisting Gus onto her hip. She’s crying a little, but trying to hide it because she knows how much Brian would hate that shit right now.

“Brian Kinney,” says Lindsay, “You asshole... I said - I told you that you’d be a grandfather, and I’m going to make damn well sure that happens. You hear me?” 

“You should probably ask Gus about that first,” Brian says lightly, and taps Gus under the chin. Gus smiles.

“You know what I mean,” she says. 

 

-

 

He would have told Vic first, would have gone to him, would’ve _asked_ him - but it’s too fucking late for that.

The fucker probably knows anyway, wherever he is.

 

-

 

Brian tells Cynthia when he absolutely has to, when she notices him looking pale and tired one too many times, when Ted slips up again and flushes in embarrassment at whatever inadvertent reference he’s made. It was some innocent comment about pecans last time, and Brian couldn’t even dignify it with a glare.

“Jesus Christ, Brian,” Cynthia says worriedly, knowing something’s up, “I was joking when I said to drink lots of foreign tap water.”

“It’s the radiation treatments,” he says immediately, and it’s strangely easy this time. “I have cancer. Testicular.”

She stops dead and just _looks_ at him. He’s never seen Cynthia look quite like that before, and he’s not sure how to describe it.

“ _Shit,_ ” she says vehemently, which is a response after his own heart.

 

-

 

Justin already knows. Justin knows everything, and Brian can’t think of why he forgot that. Why he thought he could keep this from him.

Justin says he can handle it. Fuck. Justin hasn’t even seen him puking, so far only Ted has had that dubious pleasure. But there’ll be plenty of chances for Justin to observe him at his finest, especially if he refuses to leave the fucking loft. 

Justin... fuck. Fuck, he shouldn’t even _think_ he can handle it. Justin has _seen_ him in all the ways it counts. 

When Brian woke up in the middle of the night, right after Justin came back and made him eat “some fucking chicken soup,” which by some miracle didn’t come right back up again... that’s when it happened. When Brian had to go and do something completely out-of-character.

Brian had jerked awake and followed his pattern, his brand-new one week-old one. Half-asleep, bile rising in his throat, skin sticking to the sheets - he’d immediately started groping for the empty spaces in his bed, searching desperately for something that wasn’t there. He thought it was pathetic, so pathetic, even as he kept feeling around. 

And then there weren’t any empty spaces. There was Justin, eyes on his, warm mouth on his shoulder.

Brian stopped, breathing heavily, his hand tightening involuntarily on Justin’s waist.

“I didn’t tell you,” said Brian, it seemed like such a realization, and Justin raised his eyebrows and silently agreed.

Maybe he should’ve told him. But instead, he’d tossed Justin out on his ass. Brian couldn’t ever take that back, and wouldn’t ever want to. 

Because fuck, he’d done the right thing, he knew he had, but Justin always ended up making his own decisions, and it was Brian’s job to let him.

Now Justin was back, but he was angry and quiet, and Brian’s chest hurt. He didn’t know how to fix it this time. Didn’t know which way he wanted it fixed, or if he had a say in the matter.

Brian shut his eyes tight and took Justin’s hand in his, feeling in the slight tensing of fingers the exact moment Justin realized what he was going to do. 

He guided him slowly and carefully, more for Justin’s peace of mind than his own. Justin said nothing, and Brian couldn’t see his face, but he felt Justin’s hand gentle around his dick, felt Justin’s hand reach a little bit further under his, past his cock, brushing against something so completely _wrong_... 

but that was really, rationally, only a scar.

“There,” said Brian.

He heard Justin take a shuddery breath. “You can’t tell,” Justin said, and Brian knew he was lying. Justin could tell. 

“Bullshit,” said Brian faintly. “I know you don’t feel my cock when it’s _soft_ very often, but there’s a noticeable difference.” Justin laughed, and moved his hand back up and rested it right below Brian’s stomach.

“Not for long,” Justin said. 

“This is,” Brian paused, voice cracking slightly, throat raw. It was so _late_. “This is different, Justin.”

Justin sighed, but Brian still didn’t open his eyes. He knew Justin wanted to turn on the light and pull back the sheets, stick his face right in Brian’s crotch and get to know him again, mark him again, every inch. Justin was like that... but Brian couldn’t let him do it. Not for a long time. 

This would have to satisfy both of them, just this, his and Justin’s hands interlaced in the dark.

“It’s not different,” said Justin quietly. “We’re going to wait. We’re going to go slow.”

Brian turned his head into Justin’s neck, and Justin kissed his hair. Justin said _we_ like it was something easy. He always had. 

“It’ll be like the first time,” Justin said softly, and Brian wanted to ask which one, but he already knew.


End file.
